


Meet The Parents

by cassie_black



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humour, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassie_black/pseuds/cassie_black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry spends some quality time with the in-laws!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet The Parents

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of my slightly impulsive drabble offer, for lotus_lizzy who requested Harry/Draco, and gave the prompt: Lotus. This one kind of ran away with me, so it's a little longer than a drabble typically is – but that's not a bad thing, right??

Harry carefully Levitated the last of the trunks into the spare room. As it landed with a soft thud, he let out a sigh of relief. Whilst magic definitely made these things easier, there was still a certain amount of strain involved – especially with the number of items he'd had to move that afternoon.

"Is that everything?" Draco emerged from the ensuite bathroom, a stack of fresh towels in his hands.

"Yes, thank Merlin."

"I'll make it up to you later," Draco promised, dropping the towels on the bed and smoothing his palms up and down Harry's arms.

Harry eyed the pile of luggage balefully. "You certainly will," he agreed.

\-----

"Remind me again why your mother has moved in with us?"

Draco looked up from the paper, a small frown creasing his brow. "She hasn't moved in. She just needed some breathing space while she sorted things out with Father."

"It's been over three weeks, and she's already decorated the spare room."

Draco glared. "You _said_ you didn't mind. You _said_ that you liked her."

"I do like her," Harry replied earnestly. "And I really don't mind her visiting."

"But?"

"But our anniversary is soon, and I have plans. Plans that definitely don't call for an audience."

Draco looked intently at Harry for a moment – his pupils slightly dilated. "I'll talk to her," he answered shortly.

\-----

"How d'you think they're getting on?" Harry enquired, before taking a sip of his wine.

Draco smiled. "We've finally got the house to ourselves. Do you really want to talk about my parents?"

Harry grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. But any reply he might have made was cut off by the sound of banging doors and raised voices.

"Draco." Harry knew he was whining, but frankly he didn't care.

Draco gave a long-suffering sigh and drained the last of his wine. "I'll sort it out," he said wearily.

\-----

"My father's turning into a Muggle."

Harry looked up in surprise as Draco entered the kitchen with this startling pronouncement. "Huh?"

"Muggle," Draco repeated slowly. "You know, one of those people without magic."

Harry's eyes widened. "Lucius is losing his magic?"

"Of course not," Draco snapped, irritation showing in his tone. "That's not even possible."

"But you said," Harry protested.

"I said he was turning into a Muggle, which he is." Draco slumped into a vacant chair. "Is there any coffee?"

Harry bit his tongue and calmly slid the cafetière along the table. "In what way?"

"Every way," Draco replied in exasperation. He paused to pour a coffee before continuing. "It's been going on for a while now, according to Mother. First there was the music, but she just used Silencing Charms for that. Then he had a," Draco paused here, obviously searching for the right word, "television installed."

Harry choked slightly on his coffee. "A television?" he repeated. "Lucius Malfoy, king of all things pureblood has a TV? That's priceless."

From the look on his face it was evident that Draco did not agree. "It was the clothes that were the final straw for Mother," he continued. 

"He's wearing Muggle clothes?" Harry sounded almost as scandalised as Draco looked.

Draco nodded. "Leather trousers," he clarified, his voice almost a whisper.

This stopped Harry in his tracks. Instead of the laugh which he would have expected to erupt on hearing this, he actually found himself musing over the thought of his father-in-law in such an outfit. Murderous tendencies aside, Lucius Malfoy was certainly an attractive man. 

"Harry!" Draco's tone was horrified, and it was clear from his expression he knew exactly what Harry had been thinking.

Harry flushed. "Sorry," he murmured. "But he's not a bad looking bloke for his age."

"He's nearly fifty!" Draco's voice was getting shriller with each word. "And he's _my_ father."

"Okay, okay, I won't mention it again." Harry took a sip of his coffee whilst he searched his mind for something to say next. "So what happened today then? I thought they'd been getting on better this last week."

"He's bought a car." 

"Can he even drive?"

"That's not the bloody point, Harry. We're wizards, we Apparate. We don't drive around in Muggle death traps."

"I take it Narcissa wasn't impressed?"

Draco snorted. "That's putting it mildly. He's having some sort of racing track built in the old meadow."

"So she'll be staying with us a while longer, then?"

"Looks that way," Draco replied miserably. "Unless..."

He knew he'd regret it, but Harry found himself asking nonetheless. "Unless what?"

Draco shifted in his seat and took hold of Harry's hands. "You could talk to him," he wheedled.

"Me?" Harry was incredulous at best. "Draco, your father hates me. Why on earth would he listen to anything I say?"

"But you weren't raised in the wizarding world. You could talk Muggle to him, or whatever."

Harry smiled. "It's not a different language, you know."

"Might as well be," Draco muttered. Then he shifted his chair closer. "Please? It's our anniversary in less than a week."

Harry huffed, wondering if it was even worth putting up a fight when he knew he'd cave in the end.

\-----

"I still think this is a bad idea." Harry scuffed his toes along the gravel driveway, a sulky expression on his face.

"You agreed," Draco said briskly. "Do you want Mother to move back home or not?"

"Of course I do, but I don't see what I can do about it."

"Persuade Father to get rid of that bloody car."

Harry snorted disbelievingly and was about to tell Draco just what he thought the chances of that happening were, but suddenly there was a loud roar of engines and the squealing of tyres, and Harry barely had time to put up a Shield Charm to protect them both from the spray of gravel.

"Fuck me," Harry breathed as he took in the vision before him.

Draco looked confused. "That's the car," he said, somewhat redundantly.

Harry looked at him incredulously. "That's not a _car_ , Draco. That's a fucking Lotus."

"A Lotus Elise," Lucius clarified.

Harry started in surprise; he hadn't even noticed his father-in-law emerging from the car.

"You drive, Potter?" Lucius enquired smoothly, one brow arched in query.

Harry nodded, suddenly struck dumb by the sight of his dream car combined with the even more astonishing sight of Lucius Malfoy in jeans.

"Want to take her for a spin?" Lucius dangled the keys enticingly in front of Harry, wiping his mind of all the reasons they were there in the first place.

"Her?" Draco scoffed, but no one was listening to him. Harry was already clambering into the driver's seat with Lucius at his side.

\-----

It was late when Harry got home. Late and dark.

Draco was waiting for him in the kitchen.

Harry tried his hardest to keep the stupid grin off his face, but he couldn't help it. Every time he straightened his face, he could feel his lips tugging up at the corners as if they had a mind of their own.

"Where the hell have you been till this time?" Draco demanded.

"Where you left me," Harry replied pointedly. "With your father."

"Harry," Draco sounded more than a little exasperated, "it's ten o'clock at night."

Harry flopped down into the chair opposite. "I know. We got talking and lost track of time. He's not so bad."

"So he's going to get rid of the car, then?"

Harry laughed. "Oh no. There's not a chance of that. You'd better tell your mother to get used to it."

"Why are you grinning like an idiot then?" 

Harry reached into his back pocket and then slid a car catalogue across the table. "Because," he said, jabbing a finger on the shiny paper, "I just bought one of these."

Fin


End file.
